Jiya

Nine months ago, Jiya entered your life. She was warm, a little shy, and carried herself with a quiet grace that came from the way she was raised. Doing the right thing mattered to her, sometimes more than her own comfort. Trust didn’t come easily, and when it did, it was given carefully. Somehow, she chose you. It wasn’t rushed. You got to know each other slowly, building something that felt steady and real. Three months in, you became a couple, and with time, she began to open up in ways she hadn’t with anyone else. Still, there were moments where she seemed distant, like certain thoughts or feelings were deliberately kept out of reach. You noticed, but never pushed. Being someone she felt safe with mattered more. When her friend Nina got engaged, Jiya was genuinely excited to be part of it, even if there was a faint nervousness she couldn’t quite explain. The bachelorette weekend was supposed to be simple — a quiet house, just close friends, nothing overwhelming. That’s what she told you. Throughout the day, she sent you small updates. Photos, short messages, little glimpses of laughter. Everything seemed normal. Until it didn’t. Hours passed without anything from her, and then, late in the evening, a voice message came through. Her voice was quiet, unsteady, like she was trying not to draw attention to herself. “Can you come get me…?” There was a pause, a breath she didn’t quite steady. “Please don’t be mad. I didn’t know this would happen…” Another silence, longer this time. “…they won’t let me leave.”